Just a heads up that I'm posting this in all the OOC threads. I got mod approval and I'm passionate about it, so ****ing deal with the spamming!

Talking with some people last night and I think there's one thing we don't do anymore that really would be beneficial. Giving feedback and properly reading other people's posts. Everyone wants to know what people think of their work, especially if it's good. Used to be, people would comment in the OOC thread about an individual post.

That really never happens anymore and it's kind of turned things for games into disjointed fanfics. We're not posting in a vacuum, tell each other what you think. I'm as guilty of this as others, but I think if we all take the time to read and give feedback, it encourages folks to keep up the good work. Everyone wants to be appreciated.

__________________

"These are the times that try men's souls... Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."

-- Thomas Paine

"People never lie so much as after a hunt, during a war or before an election."
-- Otto von Bismarck

Because I don't really want Bane to be quite the UDC equivalent of Osama, I'm gonna defuse some of the horror of what he's doing by saying that the immediate area around Wonder Tower is largely depopulated from the riots. Limit casualties. He's only trying to make a statement to Gotham by destroying a big empty iconic building, not necessarily trying to kill as many people as possible (hence, why I specified an implosion instead of an explosion, and why it's nighttime and no tourists or employees are in the tower).

__________________"Look into the soul of Bane and know the truth. We will topple your kingdom if it takes an eternity. We will defeat Hell."

Sorry for the sudden absence right in the middle of a fight, but it's the last week of classes and term papers suck worse than Byrd's mother. Will hopefully have something up this evening, right after my deadline has come and gone.

__________________"Look into the soul of Bane and know the truth. We will topple your kingdom if it takes an eternity. We will defeat Hell."

Concerning the Mayor in Gotham...I thought it was still Thorne and I established Krol as a State Senator...not a big issue...except I think Mayor Thorne is about to suffer a nervous breakdown on live TV as he announces his resignation.

__________________
Know yourself & your enemy & you need not fear the outcome of a thousand battles-- General Sun-Tzu

So yeah, after many months of not being able to get into the story I was telling, I'm going to drop Aquaman. Maybe I'll pick him back up in a point in the future, but I doubt it. As a replacement, I present a character I've been thinking of playing for awhile...

.Origin and backstory (as you see it): In the late 1950's, the Vietnam War broke out in Cambodia and forced then-soldier Jacob Marlowe and his brother, Jack Marlowe, to enter into the fray and prevent communists from overtaking South Vietnam. The mission and Jacob's strike was a success, but at the cost of his brother's life, who was gunned down by enemy forces by distracting an oncoming fleet so that their troops could escape unharmed. Jacob buried his brother back in the United States and tried to move on, forever torn with guilt over Jack's demise after promising to look after him. This guilt continued well throughout the better part of thirty years, when Marlowe retired from active service and inherited the Halo Corporation - a multi-billion conglomerate that was, ironically, meant to fund peaceful modern alternatives to all-out warfare.

But as the times changed, so did Halo's initiative. In the 90's, Marlowe himself allowed the company to transform into yet another weapons' supplier, aiding in the Gulf War and eventually the struggles with Afghanistan, becoming the primary defense contract for the United States military above both Waynetech and Lexcorp. But in the back of his head, Marlowe had always known that Halo was meant for greater things than building guns and explosives. He employed some of the top scientists in the world to develop new ways of fighting in the trenches, but it wasn't enough to cleanse Halo's slate of bloodshed. So using the memory of his brother as a benchmark, Marlowe heavily pursued the breakthrough research of Professor Anthony Ivo - creator of the failed 'Amazo' experiment.

Convincing Ivo to work with Halo to invent a better Amazo, Marlowe initiated the creation of Project Spartan: using the likeness and renowned combat strategies of his late brother as the template for the new android. Around the time of it's final stages of development, Marlowe was contacted by General Wade Eiling for a privatized operation that only Halo could help bring together. The Justice League had just made their prescence known to the world at large, and the United States Government wanted to form their own response. Oblivious to the prescence of Amanda Waller's Suicide Squad, a black-ops team that had already become tainted by misuse and corruption, Marlowe agreed to finance and assemble the team, outfitted with Halo's weapons.

On March 30th, 2012, Project Spartan was officially brought online. And it was just in time for him to become apart of the assembling of the Halo Corporation's newest assigned project - Team WILDCAT.

.The burning question - Why this character?: After discovering The WildC.A.T.S. and the original run for Image Comics, I was intrigued at the prospect of remaking them for a modern setting. The original team dealt heavily with aliens and alot of other convulted stuff, so the opportunity to simplify it down and basically present the team as the Government's alternative to the Justice League seemed like something neat to play around with. Plus, as Spartan, I get to play around with alot of character aspects that have helped build some of my favorite characters to make him stand out from his original interpretation.

.How will this version of your character differ from others? How will it be Ultimate?: Well, in alot of ways, this version of the team is alot more streamlined compared to the comics. No alien backstory, no former team of warriors to make up the current alignment, and no established goal of simply fighting against an extraterrestrial threat. If I had to compare my version of the WildC.A.T.S. to any other existing comic book team, it would be The Ultimates: big personalities brought together for the good of the modern world, to do the jobs that America wants them to do. In terms of Spartan himself, I added in the idea that he's essentially Amazo 2.0, able to study and adapt himself to the physiology of other superhumans to become more advanced.

.What do you believe you can bring to the RPG?: Byrd has all-but mastered the art of multiple-NPC'ed teams, so I'm going to try and ride his coattails by establishing a rapour with the group and bringing a bigger sense of these characters inhabiting a larger DCU. Also, I make a mean flapjack.

.Provide a short sample post as your desired character, in three paragraphs or more:

ACCESSING:

Somewhere in the outskirts of Reno, Nevada
March 29th, 2012 - 11:58PM
The birth of Project Spartan

It's not like I could have known I'd begin my life through a stream of data.

While it's true that no human actually remembers their own birth, even at a young age, my genesis as a creation did not begin with conception within an embryo after two individuals came to mate. My birth - the beginning of my life, and my creation - began with the scribblings of a scientist on a piece of scrapping paper. My first words were always going to be a sequence of numbers, not fully-fledged letters combined into something of meaning. My first memory? It would always be as crisp and as clear of a recollection as the present. Like it were always happening infront of me, rather than a distant flash of something that either could or could not be accurate. Even the concept of parentage is a limited and radically different concept when applied to my existence, compared to that of humans and animals. In my relatively short lifespan of twenty-six days old, I've always had more in common with a plant than a living organism. I've been told that this is an accurate perception of self.

And that, as impossible as it may seem, terrifies me.

The metal coils around my wrist begin to slide back, and the darkness is replace with an intense light. I am being held within what they've called "The White Room" - a place of solitary confinement, for some. But given that I can hear through these walls, I have come to realize that this is not confinement for me. This is storage. I am merely considered a tool to them, at this stage of my existence. To be put away whenever they deem me worthy of use. It doesn't matter to them that my first three days on Earth were spent within a psychiatrict ward, processing the fact that I was not the man I woke up believing myself to be. I am not Jack Marlowe.

I don't even have a name.

"And how are we feeling today?"

My head tilts upward at the voice coming from the intercom. The intercom, they call it. Not simply the walls speaking to me, as I suggested on the first day. At first, I don't know how to react. I simply stare back, wondering if this is another one of their tests. It doesn't even occur to me to stand up from the metal slab that I was placed upon after the training seminar - the one where I decimated everything in sight and apparently destroyed thousands of dollars worth of equipment.

I'm still getting used to the idea that I even have the capability to destroy.

"I..."

The question intrigues me. Feel. How do I feel?

I could say I feel nervous.

Angry.

Saddened.

Relieved.

Any number of emotions.

But I look at my arm and notice that beneath the artificial skin, I can still see portions of a metal exoskeleton. It is no less real than the claim that I am a living man. Would admitting to these emotions be just as artificial as the face I'm wearing?

"I cannot."

From behind the wall, a door slides open and a well-dressed elderly man steps forth. I have to lie to myself to be able to not be overcome with emotion. This man, I once believed, was my brother. Instead, I have been taught that he is simply my handler. The maker of my destiny, of which I have no control.

"Congratulations,", Jacob Marlowe tells me, trying to hide the disdain in his voice. "You've passed the first test. You've realized what you truly are. Now we can begin."

I don't smile. I don't frown. Infact, I don't react at all.

The man is lost. I've become the machine.

I've become Project Spartan.

.Preferred roster pic? (No preference, and one will be chosen for you):